


When in Fódlan

by PumpkinSpiceHimbo



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anonymous Sex, Breeding, Breeding Ball, Come Inflation, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Creampie, Crying, Depressing, Fisting, I fucked up, I'm Sorry, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Overstimulation, Sad Ending, Secret Identity, Squirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinSpiceHimbo/pseuds/PumpkinSpiceHimbo
Summary: Lorenz lost count of how many breeding balls he has attended, all without finding a mate, but this time there is a strange new Alpha who seems uninterested in playing by the rules, and Lorenz finds himself hopelessly aroused by him.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 26
Kudos: 150





	When in Fódlan

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the FE3H kinkmeme. It has since been removed.
> 
> This story does not have a HEA/HFN ending. I thought it would be poignant and lead to the events of the game afterward. This was intended to be a canon-compliant AU that could be integrated rather seamlessly into the game and existing characterization, so please just imagine that everything at Garreg Mach happens after this, their relationship develops as canon and that they end up with the Claurenz ending, mated and happy.
> 
> I'm sorry. I don't really know what else to say anymore.

The carriage jolted and shuddered as the road turned from rough cobblestone to carefully tended brick, stealing Lorenz’ breath as it had each time before. It was his anxiety, he knew, the twisting in his stomach and careful rehearsing of the call-and-return he hoped to finally speak. He was distracted, tense, sitting rigidly in his plush seat, fretting away in time with the clatter of horse and tack. 

He breathed again, unsteadily, trying to calm his nerves. No frowning. No one likes frowns or the wrinkles they cause, he reminded himself. He was getting to be a bit too old for this as it was. If he allowed himself to mar his face with worry, he would truly never find a mate.

Not that they would see his face, but it would be far worse to be rejected when unmasked than to be left dejected and unfulfilled at the side all together.

His gaze fell to the beautiful mask sitting across his lap, the feathers that adorned it carefully preened, freshly replaced from the last ball. There were tiny shards of precious gemstones inlaid in it now that caught the passing lamplight, glittering with promise that he was unable to provide on his own. He should be alluring enough on his own, or so he had always been told, and yet his father had him more adorned with each fruitless journey. There was wealth, whispered the careful goldwork embroidery on his waistcoat. There is beauty, assured the peacock feathers that would frame his face. There is a bright future, he would swear, if only given the chance.   
  


Perhaps this would be his final ball.

His heart fluttered at the thought, a soft rush of arousal winding its way through his belly, pooling between his thighs. He felt embarrassed, but knew it was for the best that he allow such thoughts and their consequences. He focused too much on the decorum, perhaps, on the words and the agreements, on the proper etiquette. His father wrinkled his nose each time he returned, chiding him on his scent and on the lack of it. His slender fingers snaked between his thighs, lightly brushing against himself to encourage his arousal. He gasped softly, hair on end, and he sunk into the plush seat, melting into the sensation, his body desperate for the stimulation.

No. No more. Any more and he would embarrass himself. Any more and he would pass from arousal into masturbation. That was forbidden, depraved, the true mark of a failure. He retrieved his hand reluctantly, guiltily, his tongue running over his lips, standing in place of his habit to chew them. His lips were visible under his mask. They certainly could not be marred if he were to seduce a mate.

The manor was close now, the lamplight more frequent. The gardens were beautiful in the moonlight, carefully tended and in full bloom to coincide with the beginning of the Spring heat. Lorenz worried the edge of his mask as he lingered on them, wondering just how many more times he would pass them, when he would cease to bloom in time with the roses. He was nearly 19, far beyond the age he should be married off. He longed for it terribly, for his youth to not be wasted, for an end to the torture that washed over him with the seasons. He prayed so much, so desperately, and yet he was unfulfilled. Undesirable, despite his careful breeding, immaculate upbringing and crest. He begged the Goddess, bless him with whatever final piece was missing that left him rejected, dozing alone as the dawn spilled through the windows.

For now, the light spilled out, warm and golden against the pale blue night, inviting him, calling him to try again with renewed determination. Flattery, submission, agreeability. Charm, sweet words, just a hint of arousal.

He lifted his fingers to his nose and allowed his eyes to flutter shut as he smelled them. He smelled strongly, sweet, but a little acrid all the same. Was that desperation? Was it souring him before he even arrived? He shivered, thinking only of his success, of exchanging tokens and finding the name of his mate in the morning haze, glowing with the warmth of breeding.

The carriage slowed and his eyes fluttered open. They were in the queue now, waiting for their turn to unload their precious cargo. He was very precious, he reminded himself. Coveted. Rare. He smoothed his hair, lifting the mask to his face, carefully tying the silk in practiced bows at the back of his head. He’d done it a dozen times already, knowing just how to execute them flawlessly, beautiful and strong, just as he was.

The footman opened the gate and set down the steps, one of the attendants already offering a hand as he stooped to exit the carriage.

“Mister Peacock,” someone confirmed, and he bowed automatically, low and dramatic, his best smile tugging his lips. “Good to see you.”   
  
“Wonderful to once again experience the hospitality and beauty of the estate,” he replied, his polished shoes clicking softly as he landed on the brick. He turned to the footman as he collected the steps and fixed him with an intense stare. “Morning, please, and not too early.”

It was what he said each time, promising that he would be successful despite his history.

The attendant led him to the manor as his carriage packed and moved on. Lorenz felt electric, knew how he looked as the glow caught his gilded attire. He would surely stand out, more than he ever had, and no one could overlook him tonight. He paused in the door as they announced him, dubbing him only as the Peacock to match his costume, and establishing him as an welcomed Omega to the Breeding Ball.

He was neither early nor late to the affair, the hall already full of people in small clusters, speaking amongst themselves. They kept apart, for now, based on their designations, and his eyes combed them all for known participants. A small group of young Alphas, the Ermine was one he had noted at the last ball, spared him a glance as he approached but returned to their discussion as he passed. The next pack was of older Alphas, the ones his father had been very aggressive about not giving in to, the sort who were long since mated and came to the balls merely for conquest and to ruin young, naive Omegas in their prime. They delighted in taking what wasn’t theirs and leaving it broken and desperate, often with a bastard to always remind them of their foolishness. Lorenz averted his eyes, wishing not to linger, even as a Cat gently batted at his feathered mask as he passed. He could hear her breathe deeply, all the confirmation he needed to know his scent was permeating his clothes, hoping that someone a bit more respectable would take such interest in him.

There were Omegas chatting near the entrance to the dining hall, and they paused their conversation as he entered. He never lingered with them, as his father had instructed, because it would give the wrong impression as to why he was here. He was not to make friends or to socialize with others of his designation, there was nothing to be gained in such alliances, only to find a suitable mate and secure his future. He had once thought them jealous of his beauty and poise, but he couldn’t help but wonder if they now judged him for being so old and still unbred, if he was no longer enviable but pitiable.

No, none of that. Confidence.

He smiled as he passed, though he did not spare them a glance.

Lorenz made his way to the long table filled with cups and large bowls of mulled wine. He knew he needed the warmth to soothe his anxiety and to sit in his belly as he searched for something a bit more substantial to replace it. He felt the wash of the alcohol almost immediately, his stomach empty from a day of preparation. Slender and attractive, still young and fertile, no hint of breeding fat on him. He knew that’s what his father thought whenever they took meals together. He was expertly adept at picking at his food while instead filling his mouth with pleasant conversation, as an Omega should be. Unburdened, hungry.

He moved from the dining hall to the ballroom, his vision swaying slightly as he watched the dancers. It was the most exquisite feeling, he imagined, being so close to someone, smelling them so strongly and feeling their touch so teasingly. Choreographed movements, all proper on the surface, but building lust with each measure and repetition. He loved to dance, but hadn’t at the last few balls, as his partners were always quick to switch out, and then had failed to approach at all. He’d been bold, was very forward in seeking his own partners at first, but he’d been scolded too often for his impropriety. He watched, sighing softly as he sipped his wine, and wished to be there, the room spinning and his heart racing. It still seemed so magical, even though he had always been so disappointed himself.

Perhaps it was delusional, believing this to be some fairytale despite his experience to the contrary. It was how he continued to attend, though, his silly belief that he would be brought together with a perfect mate, that they would dance and drink, that they would have similar political advantages and be hopelessly drawn to each other, that they would retire to one of the rooms and spend the night locked in passion. That’s how he was told it would happen, what he still held out hope could happen. It was far too depressing to think of the reality without the gauzy romantic tint, that he should just throw himself at whoever would suffer him, take his breeding as was promised by his attendance and pray that it was a viable match, biologically and politically. The Goddess would provide a child if they were suited for each other, and bless the child with a Crest if they obeyed her tenants.

Far better to think some new Alpha he’d never met would arrive, track him through the crowd and sweep him off his feet than to admit he was just waiting to be pity-bred-and-wed.

Lorenz retired to his usual corner to nurse his cup, sitting as he knew was most flattering and conveyed the best upbringing, one slim leg crossed over the other and back gently arched. He hoped he got his posing right, as if sitting for a portrait, resplendent and lush.

The ballroom filled as the guests arrived and countless dances wore on. Watching them from the sideline, it was easy to see the spark of attraction as partners switched off, the way their body language changed and no other partners would be accepted, how they stole away to the halls to find an unoccupied room. The constant ebb and flow of dancers was exhausting, after a time, all the new faces gone just as soon as they’d arrived, old faces lighting up as they’d been chosen and claimed, everything going so well.

And then there was Lorenz Hellman Gloucester in all of his peacock finery, tarnishing alone with his empty cup. He brought it to his lips again and again even though it was dry, wishing to drown his growing disappointment in wine, perhaps to sleep through the rest of the night as not to suffer in realtime, but unwilling to make the walk of shame back and forth to make it reality. The rosy tint he’d fought so hard to maintain was dimming with his inebriation, sobering with each passing minute.

“Not much of a dancer, I take?”

The voice startled him, Lorenz stiffening and turning sharply at the sound. It was close, as was the man who’d spoken, leaning as if to brush his ear with his lips. He recoiled instinctively, eyes combing over the newcomer critically, though his smell had already met him. An Alpha, there was no mistaking, but younger than he would’ve expected, with sharp green eyes that met his easily. His mask was feathered brilliantly in gold and red feathers, a phoenix perhaps, hiding much of his face and hair. His clothes were fine, made of imported jacquard it seemed, woven with metal threads to match his mask. The cut was perfect, well fitted, though the style was similarly foreign, complimenting the fabric choice expertly. A man of great taste, it seemed, or with someone on hand who knew how to dress him.   
  
“Not much of a talker either, huh?”

Lorenz felt the blood rush to his pale face beneath his mask, his roving eyes meeting those of his companion once more. He straightened and bowed his head slightly.

“My apologies,” he began. “I admit I was surprised at your approach and was admiring your exquisite attire. Is it…?”

“Almyran?” asked the Alpha, grinning beneath his mask. “Something like that. Honestly, I think it’s more of a mix, but I like it.”

“As do I!” Lorenz was quick to agree, his fingers absently turning his empty cup this way and that. “It’s rare to see such things in Fodlan, especially with the hostility and skirmishes that are constantly popping up at the coast.”

“A shame,” the Alpha lamented, nodding. “But there’s always room for new beginnings, don’t you think?”

Lorenz smiled, quite genuinely, to his surprise.   
  
“An appropriate stance, Sir Phoenix.”

“Just Phoenix is fine,” the Alpha corrected, and Lorenz tittered pleasantly in response.

“Phoenix, then.”

“So, why are you at a ball if you don’t like dancing?” Phoenix asked, his eyes flickering for a moment to the ever-moving throng on the floor. “Just admiring everyone’s fashion, or lack thereof?”

Lorenz was taken aback, though he recovered quickly enough. This Phoenix moved the conversation deftly, guiding it as he saw fit, not leading his answers before he could make them. Clever, if a bit annoying. Not good conversation, in fact, but he was charming enough.

“There is a great variety in taste here,” Lorenz said simply, answering both the more direct question and the indirect one, about fashion and available mates. He could speak to many things too, if playing coy was the game at hand.

“I’ll say,” Phoenix agreed. “And then there’s you, right? You’re definitely the best dressed, even if you’re hiding by yourself.”

“I’m not hiding,” Lorenz said indignantly.

“Then what are you doing?”

Blushing, that’s what, though that was hardly the answer Lorenz wanted to give. Phoenix was running circles around him, perhaps mocking him, maybe goaded into this by some of the others from previous balls. He’d never seen this feathered fellow before but that didn’t mean that he was entirely without connections.

“Eyeing my options,” Lorenz replied, lifting his nose and averting his gaze to the dancefloor once more.

“And?”

“Finding them lacking.”

“Ouch,” Phoenix teased, putting a hand to his chest as if wounded. “And here I thought we might be birds of a feather.”   
  
There was a moment of shame in that response, though Lorenz knew he was being manipulated. He didn’t look at Phoenix, narrowing his eyes at no one in particular.

“Maybe you need to get out there and take a closer look,” Phoenix suggested, filling the space.

“And dance alone? Would that not be a pathetic display?”

“Not for you,” Phoenix assured him. “You seem like you like being alone, so I say embrace it. I’m always alone too and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I do not choose to be alone,” Lorenz snapped, though he regretted his honesty the moment he revealed it.

“Then let’s choose to be alone… together,” Phoenix said, his smile charming and a bit predatory. His hand was outstretched, gloved in soft black leather, trimmed in gold lace.

Lorenz let his eyes wander to the hand, then to the man once more. His eyes were sympathetic, perhaps pitying, though he maintained his easy smirk. Was he desperate enough to subject himself to… whatever this was? He certainly couldn’t trust this Phoenix, no matter how lovely he smelled or smoothly he talked.

Still, his hand slipped easily into the Alpha’s, his own dainty white glove contrasting with the leather, his hand long and slender in comparison with his companion’s shorter, but still well proportioned, fingers. They closed around him without hesitation and before he could react, Phoenix had pulled him up from his seat and toward the dancefloor.

“W-wait,” Lorenz stammered, his long-empty cup still in hand, his heart racing at the abruptness of it all. Phoenix was undeterred, plucking the cup from his hand and turning toward the attendants near the door. He whistled, barely waiting for their eyes to find him before he flung the cup to them in a gentle underhand, seemingly uncaring at how they scrambled to catch it before it hit the ground.

Lorenz was aghast, horrified but swept up in the motion, falling into the practiced choreography even as he gaped. Phoenix was much shorter than he’d realized sitting, and he grinning up at him from beneath his beaked mask, seeming quite delighted in the chaos he’d caused. He likely enjoyed the chaos he was causing Lorenz, too.

It was alluring, somehow, despite how improper. Maybe because of its impropriety. Lorenz allowed himself to be led, dizzy and reeling, trying to catch up and find words to properly convey his emotions… whatever they were.

The air seemed so much thicker on the dancefloor, even as it moved around them with the twirling dancers. It was heady and musky with their combined scents, dozens of different pheromones from Alpha and Omega alike, spurred on by each other, mingling delightfully as matches were made. Lorenz could feel himself flush, could feel his pulse between his thighs, intoxicated by his proximity to them, and to Phoenix, whose scent somehow cut through the rest.

“This is sudden,” he finally managed, a shiver running down his spine as Phoenix dipped him lightly, breaking away from the set steps, taking him off guard again. He found himself clinging to his shoulders, frightened that he might be dropped, the tiny voice of his anxiety still whispering doubts as to Phoenix’ sincerity through the music and rhythmic clicking of polished shoes.

“Doesn’t that make it fun?” Phoenix asked, twisting away from an expected partner exchange, instead choosing to twirl Lorenz out, sending his peacock-feather tails spinning out in the lamplight.

It did, of course. Everything about this was disruptive, abhorrently so, absolutely embarrassing, and he could feel the eyes upon him, how others were surely watching as they failed to conform to the dance. And yet, there was something thrilling about it, about how it broke away from the practiced disappointment he’d known before, the rigidity of the affair that prevented him from succeeding time and time again.

He spun back at the faint tug Phoenix gave him, landing against his chest, breathless.

“Yes,” he mouthed, or perhaps whispered, he wasn’t certain.

“Good to see you smile,” Phoenix answered, once again dangerously close to his ear, his breath hot and lips just barely grazing him.

Lorenz shivered in his arms.

And then they were dancing again, somehow right back in step as if they’d never deviated, the dancers accommodating them as they did each new arrival or departure. They moved well together despite their difference in height, Lorenz found, and Phoenix was an adequate dancer despite his occasional improvisation, forcing other dancers to awkwardly loop around him as he refused to relinquish his partner.

It was dreamlike, though the wine certainly no longer blurred the edges of reality. It was the pheromones that did that now, and the music, and the touch he had so craved. Phoenix wasn’t lusty in his movements, barely touched him beyond what the dances called for, and yet Lorenz was entirely on edge, living for each brush and squeeze of his hand.

It felt like he always imagined it might, possibly even better. He felt desired, for once, and as if he may have finally found a suitable partner, if not a mate. They were surely close in age, surely of similar position, politically speaking, if Phoenix’ lush attire was anything to go by. While Phoenix was eager to break away from the expected, he also knew when not to push, always returning them to the comfort of conformity just before Lorenz became too tense. It was breaking him down, he knew, a careful give-and-take to loosen him up, just like the conversation they’d had before, but he found that he no longer cared. If Phoenix wished to dazzle him and overwhelm him, who was he to resist?

He was smiling, after all, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone made him smile.

He stooped slightly, his own trembling lips near Phoenix’ ear, his breath thin and quick.

“Shall we… find a room?”

The laugh startled him, stopping the dance mid-stride, almost causing a couple nearby to crash into them. Phoenix tugged him back into step, keeping them moving as he recovered his composure. Lorenz was hot under his mask, flushed, confused and angry.

“Sorry, that’s a little forward, don’t you think?” Phoenix clarified, though it didn’t make Lorenz feel any better about the response.

“Am I to understand you aren’t looking to do so?”

“I was looking for a dance partner,” Phoenix answered evasively, his green eyes sharp. “I found one, didn’t I?”

“As a prelude, yes,” Lorenz confirmed, frowning. “However dancing is just a prelude.”

“Is it?” Phoenix asked, feigning ignorance in an entirely obvious way that made Lorenz all the angrier. “To what?”

“To… to…!”

He found himself unable to speak, his whole body hot with embarrassment. They all knew why they were here, what was intended to happen, and yet this fool, this Phoenix, was intending to make him say it aloud, here, on the dancefloor. And what was he to say? Even trying to think of the words made him all the more flushed, his own arousal hard to ignore. Phoenix surely smelled him, though he didn’t seem to acknowledge it.

“To?” he prompted, tilting his head innocently.

“To mating,” Lorenz chirped.

“Mating?!” Phoenix said, a bit louder than Lorenz was comfortable with. “Oh man, maybe I’ve ended up at the wrong ball.”

It was preposterous to think that such a mistake could be made, especially with the way Phoenix was dressed. There was no misunderstanding, just the shame that Lorenz had so feared, the humiliation he was certain Phoenix would bring to him. He tried to pull away, to make some sort of mistake, find a bed to fling himself upon, to cry in his frustration instead of in ecstasy.

Phoenix held him firmly, swinging him back into the dance, catching him in another dip as he threatened to fall to the floor. Lorenz could feel the tears pooling beneath the edge of his mask and grit his teeth against them.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Phoenix soothed, pulling them both upright. “I’m kidding. Obviously.”

“I do not appreciate this in the slightest,” Lorenz snapped back, allowing himself to be led once more in the dance.

“I know,” Phoenix admitted, something like guilt in his eyes, if only for a moment. “I can tell you take this very seriously.”

“You should not be here if you do not,” Lorenz chastised, and Phoenix nodded in response. They danced for a few moments before he spoke again.

“You’re probably right, but I needed to see what this all was about myself,” he admitted, his gaze roaming as they moved. “It’s archaic, really kind of backwards, y’know? And it seems to hurt people like you.”

“People like me?” Lorenz repeated defensively. “What, pray tell, are people like me?”

“People set up to be taken advantage of,” he clarified, still not looking back.

“Omegas,” Lorenz said flatly, a new sort of anger building inside him.

“Huh?” That seemed to snap Phoenix from whatever it was he was mulling over, his eyes once more meeting Lorenz’. “No, just people, in general, who buy into this stuff. People who base their entire worth on bloodlines and tradition.”

“So I am to assume you have no Crest,” Lorenz snapped. “Of course you wouldn’t understand, then.”

“Me?” Phoenix asked, blinking in surprise. “Nah, I have one. I just don’t really care about it.”

Lorenz was dumbstruck, searching Phoenix for any hint that he was lying or joking or anything else insincere. For once, he seemed unassuming, and Lorenz was again at a loss. If he did have a Crest, then surely passing it on was important to him, wasn’t it? Admission to the ball was based on designation, of course, but even Crestless Alphas and Omegas attended in the vain hopes that they could bring forth some recessive Crest in their coupling. The entire point was to secure good matches and Goddess blessed breeding that resulted in Crested offspring. How could one attend and… just not care?

“I don’t understand you at all,” Lorenz admitted, his tone plaintive and defeated.

“And I don’t understand you either,” Phoenix agreed, soothing again as they danced. “But that’s why I’m here, and that’s why we’re dancing.”

“Is it?”

“Isn’t it?”

Lorenz was exhausted by all of it, tears finally leaking down his cheeks as they moved in silence. Phoenix was watching him intently now and after a moment, tugged him away from the dancefloor.

“Hey, let’s get a room, okay?” he offered, tugging a handkerchief from his pocket. He dabbed lightly at Lorenz’ cheeks in turn, trying his best to preserve his makeup even as the kohl cut black paths through his powder.

Lorenz sniffled but did not answer. As Phoenix tugged him down the hall, he followed, no longer having the strength to argue.

The manor was beautiful beyond the reception halls and ballroom, hung with paintings of political figures and scenes of historical and mythological merit. The windows were fully dressed with silk curtains and elaborate valances, the doors flanked by weapons and armour to invoke a sense of safety and security to those who traveled beyond. The corridor was lined with heavy, carved wooden doors, many of which had ribbons tied about their handles. These rooms were occupied, as if one could mistake the sounds that came from within. Even in his desolation, Lorenz couldn’t help the way the sounds made him swell and ache. He still longed to be one of them, to finally find his mate. Even being led to his own room, he knew it was not for the proper purpose.

They passed room after room before Phoenix settled on the last in the hall, several unoccupied suites overlooked in favour of the most remote option. He only let go of Lorenz’ hand to open the door, holding it for him with a deep bow that he couldn’t help but feel was mocking him. He slipped inside, sniffling again indignantly.

On the bed was a basket, packed with various party favours intended to make for a good breeding. There was a white ribbon tied around the handle that was meant for the door and Lorenz stared at it sourly. Should they even bother? They were just here to talk, weren’t they? And then leave? Would the next occupants be angry they’d disturbed the basket?

These questions didn’t seem to plague Phoenix as he claimed the ribbon, returning to tie it in a pretty bow before closing and latching the door. Lorenz waited near the bed, dour and pale.

As Phoenix set eyes on him, he sagged and sighed, upset by what he saw. He kept his distance, his gloved hand rubbing the nape of his neck.

“I really screwed up, huh?” he asked after a moment, his guard lowered.

“You’ve made a laughingstock out of me,” Lorenz replied sharply, voice cracking. “I do that plenty well on my own, I do not need you to add to my shame.”

“I didn’t mean to shame you,” Phoenix said softly, frowning. “You looked like you needed someone to pull you out of your shell, so I thought I’d give you a little tug.”

“I do not need help coming out of my shell,” Lorenz snapped. “I need someone to take me seriously as a potential mate so that I can be done with these wretched events.”

“If you hate them so much, why do you come to them?” Phoenix asked, gesturing at the door. “Everyone else out there is living it up.”

“Everyone else out there has found someone who is compatible with their needs,” Lorenz corrected. “I was a fool to think that perhaps I had finally done the same.”

“Maybe you did and you just don’t know it,” Phoenix countered. “You needed someone to make you smile, make you feel good, and I think I did that. At least for a minute.”

Lorenz’ lips pressed into a thin line. He frowned hard despite himself, brows knit and teeth clenched.

“We are compatible beyond that,” he said carefully, picking his words as to not allow room for Phoenix to twist them. “You smell divine, a Goddess-sent blessing that I have so sorely needed. Your touch leaves me quivering and even now I am powerless against my attraction to you. I hate you and yet I crave you so.”

“Hate is a really strong word,” Phoenix commented. “I get it though. You’re upset. You’re allowed to be.”

“I do not need your permission to be upset,” Lorenz asserted.

“Nope, you definitely don’t.” Phoenix paused, then sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you still here?” Lorenz demanded. “You’re sorry, which means you have no intention to follow through with this. Do you get some perverse thrill from having Omegas fawn over you only to deny them when they are desperate to have you?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Phoenix said defensively, hands raised.

“Then what is it?”

“I have a lot that I need to do before I even think about settling down with anyone,” Phoenix relented, shaking his head. “I told you I came here to see what all this is about, and that’s true, and that’s why I’m not trying to find a mate.”

“And if you did, you would simply cast them aside simply because it did not fit your plans?” Lorenz asked, voice pained with disbelief.

“Yes,” Phoenix said simply.

That was all Lorenz could take. He gestured sharply at the door, sitting on the edge of the bed, trying so very hard to steady himself, to keep from crying until he was alone once more. He would’ve accepted pity, but not like this. This was just more humiliation on top of all else. stinking of arousal and desperation, abandoned and unfulfilled, aching in every way he could imagine with no course for relief.

Phoenix moved to join him and Lorenz turned away, his finger pointing unwaveringly at the door.

“Out,” he said firmly, but still Phoenix approached, taking his hand and kissing it as he closed in. He drew closer as Lorenz retracted his arm and the soft leather of his gloved hand sent shivers down Lorenz’ spine as it cupped his chin. Phoenix lifted it gently and stooped down, pressing a careful, almost wary kiss to his lips.

It was heartbreakingly sweet, the tears welling up despite his every attempt to keep them at bay. He melted into the kiss, trembling, needy, his body betraying him with each passing moment. His hand touched Phoenix’ neck, pressed lightly against his nape, urging him with such a simple touch not to pull away. They parted only momentarily, several times in succession, each kiss deepening. Lorenz whimpered softly, overwhelmed.

There was some faint part of him that felt this was the worst possible way to receive a first kiss, tearful and bereft, surely to be denied again just after, but he could not help but savour the way it felt each time their lips met. It was torturous relief so many years in the making, something to hold onto for the future if not the present, for when his need became too great to avoid tending to, and for whatever Alpha eventually claimed him.

He pulled Phoenix’ hand down, pressing it between his thighs, sighing in sweet relief at the sensation. Phoenix lingered, though he finally broke away enough to speak, a little breathless.

“Do you want this even if I leave?” he asked.

“Please,” Lorenz whined, pressing his fingers harder against him.

Phoenix did not need further instruction, rubbing teasingly against Lorenz’ cock through his trousers. Lorenz shuddered, pulling him back into a kiss, moaning softly at the touch. He felt Phoenix’ tongue flicker across his lip and he met it enthusiastically, if without refinement. He could only hope his eagerness, and the times he’d managed a peek at a lewd pamphlet, would carry him where experience did not. If Phoenix wasn’t skilled, he at least had proper instincts, and that was more than Lorenz could claim for himself. The most he could do was encourage and fumble his way though, hoping not to embarass himself along the way.

As Phoenix rubbed at him, he parted his thighs more, eventually sinking backwards onto the bed to allow them to spread fully. Phoenix let him fall, allowing the kiss to break even as Lorenz’ fingers remained at his neck, pulling him to rejoin. He did not, not yet at least, instead taking advantage of his easier access, his knuckles dragging across his slit. Lorenz gasped and trembled, dripping all the more for each new sensation, aching to be unclothed.

“Please,” he breathed, and Phoenix obliged.

Lorenz wondered dully if this was just pity or if it was indulgence, if Phoenix did desire him but intended to abstain. It didn’t matter, truly, so long as he would follow through now. Would his resolve fall away once they were tied? Would he leave his token for the morning so that Lorenz could seek him out for proper courtship? Would the Goddess bless them and their coupling be fruitful?

Every thought twisted his stomach, made him clench inside still empty and aching. He did not wish to bear children so early into his life, but his desire to be mated and secure was far more important in this moment. His desire to please, to be proven worthy, was foremost, to be found adequate and finally fulfilled at the forefront of his mind.

“Do… I smell good?” he murmured as Phoenix rubbed him, scarcely aware he’d spoken.

“Great,” Phoenix assured him, and a roll of pleasure moved across his body in response. That seemed to encourage Phoenix, a lazy, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. He pulled his hand away, ignoring the plaintive sigh from Lorenz as he raised it to his nose, smelling it deeply before giving it a lick. That made Lorenz shiver and twist, unable to watch him as he teased, and he laughed softly. “You taste even better.”

“You do not need to taste me…” Lorenz whispered, dizzy with arousal.

“I disagree completely,” Phoenix argued, and he bit the fingertip of one glove, dragging it off of his hand. With his newfound dexterity, he made quick work of the buttons at Lorenz’ fly. He dragged his trousers down, wasting no time in bending down to taste again, his tongue lapping at Lorenz’ slit.

Everything moved so quickly that Lorenz barely had time to react before he felt Phoenix’ tongue running across his most sensitive flesh. He writhed and moaned, clapping a gloved hand over his mouth in embarrassment at the sound that he made. It only seemed to spur Phoenix on, the lapping repeating, tongue tracing each fold and swell, moving from bottom to top before settling upon his cock. It was hard, painfully so, and he swirled his tongue across the head with relish.

There was no anticipating how wonderful this felt, even with the shame that came with it. This certainly was not the prescribed way of going about a breeding, at least as for as Lorenz knew. This was indulgent and immoral, a dalliance that surely he would need to confess and beg penance for, but oh, how wonderful did it feel to sin.

Phoenix had taken the time to pull off his other glove as he became acquainted with Lorenz, both hands now naked and resting on each of his inner thighs, clammy from the leather. His thumbs pressed gently on either side of his slit, pulling him open to allow his tongue to roam once again, savouring every drip of slick he could.

It was hard to remain self-conscious with how enthusiastic Phoenix had become, and even harder to doubt his attraction. Lorenz had always heard how difficult it was for Alpha to abstain, that they were driven mad at the smell of an unbred Omega, and that it was direly necessary he be mated early for his own protection. He’d believed that for years, still tried to even now, but it had been easy for Alphas to resist him at every ball, and while he did occasionally get predatory looks from Alphas in passing, no harm had ever come to him as a result. Even so, there was the lingering fear that he was somehow undesirable in a fundamental way, that there was something about him that simply failed to earn him such uncontrollable reactions, and until Phoenix finally gave in, it seemed impossible to refute. Now, it was undeniable mutual attraction, and Lorenz nearly wept with joy.

Phoenix’ fingers were much slimmer than Lorenz had realized in his gloves. It was easy to tell now just how small and deft they were as they pressed inside of him, insubstantial, no more than a tease until they curved and rubbed him inside. He arched and moaned, hips moving against his hand, then rising to meet his mouth. It was a relief to feel him slip inside, but so much less than he needed. Just a tease, even as a third finger joined the first two, pumping together in unison slowly.

Being touched by an Alpha was so much better than by himself. Even with his small, narrow fingers, Phoenix was able to delve so much deeper than Lorenz could. The angle was better and he could arch against them, thrust insistently upon them, writhe and squeeze around them as he needed.

“Greedy,” Phoenix said softly as he pulled away from his cock, laughing a little under his breath. Lorenz responded with a plaintive, pouty sound that melted away the moment Phoenix gave him a good stroke inside. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Even if it was, there was nothing Lorenz would do to stop it. He had never known such a terrible desperation as he did now, a need to be fucked and filled that could not be ignored. He tittered in delight as he felt a fourth finger slip inside, his body accommodating each new addition. More and more and more, it needed, and thankfully, Phoenix was willing to provide.

“Did you know,” Phoenix began, pausing to give Lorenz a long swirl of his tongue. “They say an Alpha’s knot is about the size of their fist?”

Lorenz had not heard that but that was not why Phoenix mentioned it. Moments after he’d accepted the fourth finger, all were removed in favour of the aforementioned fist. It was a warning, and a promise. It pressed against him, allowing him to relax, for his body to draw at it. There was little hesitation from Lorenz as it slowly slipped inside of him, and the pleasure was immediate and overwhelming. The deeper it went, the better it felt, until he could feel his body tightening around Phoenix’ slender wrist, as if trying to tie him there.

“That’s amazing,” Phoenix commented, giving a slight tug to test him. Lorenz moaned, arching to keep him inside, squeezing around him. He would not let him go so easily, not when he felt so good. Phoenix chuckled at that and bowed his head to resume his oral assault.

It was fascinating how his body responded, how his cock twitched as it was sucked, pulsing in time with each thrust inside him. The fist stretched him in the most delightful way, knuckles rubbing where Phoenix’ fingertips had been teasing. Even in his most guilty moments, Lorenz had never managed pleasure such as this. When he’d rubbed himself to orgasm, it had been brief, unremarkable and somehow left him aching worse than before. The Goddess’ punishment, or so he had assumed. Omegas were meant to be filled like this, nothing else would be enough.

Well, not exactly like this. There was something far better that he knew would not compare to even the fist.

Phoenix seemed content to fuck him like this for now, sighing and humming against his cock as he pumped away inside him. He was learning him from the inside, all the angles that got the best moans, the speed and depth that made him whimper and whine, nothing making it past him without notice. He seemed to relish the experience.

For Lorenz, every moment felt better than the last, and a terrible pressure was building inside of him. It felt different than anything ever had before, instilled an urgency in him that he’d never known and he found himself bucking with increasing vigour against the fist in response. His legs trembled as it grew, shaking as he got closer and closer.

To what? An orgasm?

It had to be, but it felt so very different. It came suddenly, and his legs went weak, toes curling. Lorenz cried out in surprise and pleasure, a sudden rush overcoming him as Phoenix fucked him. More than he’d ever dripped flooded out of him, gushing more with each thrust, covering Phoenix’ face. He took it in stride, groaning himself as he licked Lorenz’ cock, seeming quite pleased with this result.

Lorenz could feel his body drawing at the fist, trying fruitlessly to milk it as he was sure it would a cock. He’d never known such an intense orgasm, and yet he knew that better was yet to come, if only for how desperately he squeezed Phoenix’ hand. His babbling, overwhelmed sounds were a mix of pleasure and plaintive, testament to his satisfaction and remaining needs in turn. He wanted to form words but couldn’t, unable to vocalize how desperately he needed to be properly knotted, warm and full of cum.

Such a crude, detailed desire was embarrassing to have, but the thoughts were impossible to temper as aftershocks of pleasure sent shivers across his skin. Would his body finally know peace and satisfaction when he was properly tied, fucked out and filled up? Would Phoenix’ cock twitch inside him as his did, pulsing as he came, as his knot swelled to its fullest? What would kissing feel like then? Is that how they would spend their time joined, squeezing and twitching and kissing deeply?

Could this be that sweet?

Lorenz shivered, swallowing thickly. His throat was so dry, his constant moaning having robbed him of any moisture his mouth could provide. His mind was still foggy and dazed, but slowly clearing, at least enough to get ahold of reality. There was no point in getting lost to a fantasy like that, especially with Phoenix. Phoenix, for his part, was happily dragging his tongue around, eagerly licking up as much of the mess as he could. That wasn’t a romantic gesture, though, and it was silly to assign such things to him.

Exhaustion crept over his body as the orgasm subsided, and it was hard to will his limbs into moving. They were heavy, far too heavy, and it felt pointless to even try. It wasn’t until he felt Phoenix start to pull out that he did anything at all, his hand touching Phoenix’ wrist lightly, feeling his palm slowly emerge. It was a control gesture, even if he didn’t have the strength to control anything. Phoenix was attentive as ever and moved in accordance with the gesture. Slowly, slowly, and then  _ pop _ ! His hand was free, coated in slick, and Lorenz could finally rest.

He whined softly, empty and still longing, despite it all.

Phoenix looked around, spying the basket still laying on the bed, and grabbed a towel from it. He wiped his hand off as best it could, his gaze turning back to Lorenz.

“That seemed satisfying,” he observed, smirking.

“Mostly,” Lorenz sighed, trying to prop himself up on his elbows but finding it impossible. “I need a drink.”

“You sound pretty rough,” Phoenix agreed, standing up fully to wander in search of a drink. There was a pitcher on the side table with a pair of cups and he filled each in turn. He wiped his face on the towel, then drank deeply from one of the cups, bringing the other over for Lorenz. Lorenz accepted it with unsteady hands and Phoenix helped him sit up to drink.

The water was tepid but wonderful in that moment. In the time it took to drain the cup, Phoenix had retrieved the pitcher, refilling it without a word. Lorenz drained half again before he was finally satisfied, sighing in relief as he came up for air.

“How was it?” Phoenix asked.

“A bit warm,” Lorenz murmured, looking at his cup. “But it was good enough.”

“I wasn’t talking about the water.”

Lorenz flushed, his dull mind taking a moment to catch up. He hesitated to collect his thoughts, but found them hard to speak aloud, all far too crude for him to utter.

“Good,” he managed.

“Good enough?” Phoenix tested.

Lorenz shook his head, unable to meet Phoenix’ gaze.

“Not good enough?” Phoenix asked instead.

“Not quite,” Lorenz confirmed.

“That’s… a shame,” Phoenix sighed, his lips pursing slightly in his disappointment. His eyes roamed across Lorenz as if a simple glance would explain it all, and Lorenz found his cheeks blazing hotter, the dull haze of sex giving way to his innate desire for modesty and discretion.

“You are still unspent,” he said carefully, choosing the words to best say directly what he meant without being too lewd. “Addressing that issue would be satisfying to us both, wouldn’t it?”

Phoenix laughed, the sound a bit more awkward than Lorenz had expected. Was he… embarrassed? It seemed ill-fitting at first, what with how bold Phoenix had been thus far… and yet, he had shied away from much of the discussion of actual breeding, hadn’t he? Phoenix was no longer looking him over, his hand at his nape again, his eyes cast to the side.

“Please correct me if I’m wrong,” he said at last, unable to sit in the prolonged silence.

“No, you’re right,” Phoenix admitted, the ghost of a chuckle on his breath. “But I didn’t really plan on…”

Lorenz waited for him to finish the sentence, apprehensive and anticipating a blow, but it never came. Whatever Phoenix wasn’t planning would stay a secret, it seemed. The Omega propped himself up a bit more, his desire to look at Phoenix overcoming the weakness in his body. It was hard to tell unless one looked carefully, but even in his loose, low-crotch pants, the outline of his cock was visible, dots of pre-cum darkening the fabric.

“Please,” Lorenz said again, this time more softly, more seductively, or so he attempted. He’d never figured out what sound was the right one, none had ever managed to entice, but a hopeful, yet slightly plaintive sound would have to do for now. “Allow us to both be satisfied.”

Phoenix laughed properly now, though slightly uncomfortably, embarrassed, perhaps, to be caught so aroused. He sighed as he turned back to Lorenz, his eyes falling between his long, pale thighs to where his fingers gently rubbed and plied the sticky, glistening skin. Lorenz imagined that made his cock twitch, or so the hitch in his breath suggested. It was a relief to have such a reaction. Maybe he was finally learning how to properly court a mate.

“You enjoyed me, did you not?” Lorenz purred, trying to stay even and soft even as his heart raced at the thought of succeeding. “It would seem that some parts are jealous of those that already have. It would be a shame not to fully enjoy me in every way possible, wouldn’t it?”

“I have no idea what has gotten into you,” Phoenix muttered, his lips skewing with a lopsided smirk. “But I guess the next thing is me, huh?”

In an instant, Lorenz bloomed, his face lighting as he smiled, betraying himself completely. He’d done it, finally. He would be claimed here and now, knotted and filled, finally making good on years of disappointed dreams. Somewhere, he heard his father’s voice, stern and grim, telling him that confidence was key, that being self-assured would bring him a mate in no time. He would smell him immediately when he returned, no doubt, and he would be right, it seemed. One moment of confidence and Phoenix was toppling onto him.

The mattress sank beneath their combined weight, Phoenix’ knee pressing between his parted thighs, sending a chill down Lorenz’ spine. He arched and gasped, and Phoenix captured his mouth in a firm, somewhat urgent kiss. His heart drummed deafeningly in his ears, excited and anxious, overwhelmed and driving him forward. He could smell himself on Phoenix’ skin, his scent powerfully clinging to the feathered mask. It would be on those pants of his now too, unmistakable to whoever encountered him before he could change. The thought excited Lorenz terribly and he felt it twist inside him, his body already hungry again.

They kissed again and again, lips meeting with increasing fervor, misaligned sometimes, deep and full others. Phoenix was beyond compare, truly, a master of his craft, or so Lorenz thought. He had nothing to compare it to, but he could imagine no better, the wet spot he was leaving as Phoenix’ knee rubbed against him testament to his skill.

Between them, Lorenz’ fingers were moving again, pawing at his pants, trying to work out how to undo them. They brushed against his cock and they both shivered, Phoenix finally pulling back from their kissing, his mask slightly askew.

“Let me get that,” he said, bumping it back into place with his wrist. In a moment, he’d undone them, the rich fabric pooling at his knees against the mattress, his cock now proud, flush and dripping in the air.

The hints of his scent were paltry compared to him now, unsheathed and dripping. Lorenz could feel the twist of arousal again, the blood rushing between his thighs, the drip of his own slick in response. He wanted badly to touch Phoenix, to take hold of his cock and to trace it tentatively with his fingertips. He wanted to see it up close, to see what a proper knot looked like, to judge whether or not he’d trimmed his pubic hair in anticipation. He wanted to, but he wouldn’t, his hands reaching up for his face instead, his heels hooking behind Phoenix’ thighs.

“Please,” he whispered, a soft, desperate whine that he was certain he should be ashamed of but was certain he no longer cared about.

“As you wish,” Phoenix murmured back, and then he stooped slightly, head leaning heavily against Lorenz’ palms. He smiled as Lorenz jumped, the head of his cock brushing his aching flesh, teasing against the slickness and mixing their scents. Lorenz whined again wordlessly, his hips arching, pressing him against Phoenix as much as he could manage.

It was as if he’d never known an internal touch before now, that Phoenix had not just removed his entire hand from him, quivering from the intensity of his orgasm. His cock was new, different, unimaginably  _ right _ , and Lorenz could scarcely imagine anything had come before it. His body craved it by the inch and his legs tightened around Phoenix’ hips, unwilling to let him retreat.

“Yes!” he keened, the sound nearly a sob of relief, his eyes closing against the rush of emotion and pleasure he felt. Phoenix may have hesitated if he did not urge him on, and so he did, hiding his mouth in his hand to stifle any other sounds.

“Let me hear you,” Phoenix urged, watching Lorenz as he pressed further inside, shivering in his own muted pleasure. He stopped only when his knot met his lover, the only bit left of him to be claimed. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Wonderful,” Lorenz whined, though he didn’t move his hand. His hips moved, raising and thrusting gently, shyly fucking himself in his excitement. “Perfect, absolutely perfect.”

“Oh, so you don’t need my knot after all?” Phoenix teased, too breathless to laugh.

“No,” Lorenz was quick to respond, his hips pressing harder against Phoenix. “No, no, please… please… I…”

“Shh…” Phoenix soothed, his hand coming to cup Lorenz’ cheek as Lorenz cupped his. “You’ll get it when you’re ready, I promise. I won’t do that to you.”

He moved to meet Lorenz, matching his tempo, meeting his thrusts gently, pulling out a bit more between. Lorenz could feel the gooseflesh spread across his body, soft sounds of pleasure burbling up unbidden as he was fucked.

Finally.

He would not weep, but he could, oh how easily he could.

He allowed Phoenix to take over the thrusting, instead sinking down and feeling his body draw at his cock on its own. He was made for this,  _ they _ were made for this, and finally they were together, brought together by fate and the Goddess’ guidance. Together, they smelled better than anything ever had before. It had to be a perfect match, Lorenz was absolutely certain of it. It was as everything had promised him. A mate that smelled undeniably good, that found him equally appealing, and together they were without compare. If Phoenix was right, if his fist was the same size as his knot, it would be a flawless match there too, a perfect fit, destined to be tied.

Surely Phoenix felt it too, even if he played aloof and coy. He was thrusting, after all, nuzzling and kissing Lorenz’ palm, breath hot against it, carrying his own pleased sighs. He sounded best each time his knot made contact, pressing against Lorenz, teasing them both, never pressing fully inside.

Lorenz adjusted, his legs wrapping about Phoenix’ waist instead, feet hooking each other to secure him in place. The angle was better, the pleasure exquisite, and they both were not shy to sing its praises. Phoenix’ knot pressed more insistently with each thrust, and Lorenz could feel his body relax, desperate to take it in, to secure a proper end.

“I need you,” Lorenz whimpered, tightening his grip around Phoenix, trying to urge him inside. “Please… Phoenix, please…”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his thrusts becoming short and shallow, quick as he waited for the answer.

“Yes, please, yes,” Lorenz insisted, his hair standing on end.

Phoenix slowed again, each thrust purposeful, just a tiny bit deeper than the last, allowing Lorenz to accommodate, unwilling to force anything. Lorenz could feel his body accepting it more each time, stretching to fit, dripping with encouraging slick. Then came the final push, the fullest part of his knot passing inside, the full length of his cock burying in an instant that left them both shivering and panting, faces pressed together and open mouths moaning.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Lorenz felt like he was floating, so full as he had never known, even with a fist so recently buried inside him. His body craved that thickness to milk and squeeze, but the full length of a cock was what he needed to be complete. He was giggling in pleasure, he realized, bubbling over again. He couldn’t help it. It was just what he’d always needed and never gotten. He was finally truly fulfilled.

And Phoenix was kissing him, deep and full, his cock twitching slightly as their tongues met, reassuring him the pleasure was reciprocated. His hips moved slowly, gently, testing against Lorenz on both extremes, his hips pressed hard against his thighs, his knot pulling against Lorenz, threatening to pop out. The latter made him all but squeal in protest, a babbling mess of words, a jumbled plea to remain, to stay where he belonged. Thankfully, his knot had already swelled more, all but preventing a retreat.

Why should he wish to retreat? This was just as they should be.

“Take me,” Lorenz whispered as their lips parted.

Phoenix seemed happy to oblige.

With the limits tested, he resumed his thrusts, his balls slapping against Lorenz’ sticky skin. They stayed close now, both from desire and by design, foreheads together, clutching and grinding and moving together, seeking their release.

What would it feel like, Lorenz dully wondered, to be so full and yet filled even more upon climax? He’d never considered it before now, it was too far in the future with so many hurdles to overcome, but now it was all he could think of, each thrust pushing them closer to that inevitable conclusion. That wasn’t detailed even in his pamphlets, only a brief mention of it leaking out afterward. That was likely the intended use of the towels. What would  _ that _ feel like?

He couldn’t wait to find out.

It was all exquisite. Magical, even.

He already wanted so much more.

He could feel his body drawing at Phoenix’ cock, needing to be filled. He felt tighter, tenser, afraid to move for fear of losing the perfect position for pleasure. Then he could feel Phoenix’ hand between them, fumbling for his cock. The first stroke was slightly off-mark but he returned with pinpoint accuracy, his fingers moving in fast, firm circles as best he could without missing a single thrust.

Lorenz yelped, suddenly awash with ecstasy, the feeling twice what he’d felt before. He shook terribly, limbs stiff, all thoughts knocked from his mind, lips moving wordlessly through his moans. It was pure, white-hot and all-consuming, more than he could have imagined. He could feel his body clench, tying firmly around Phoenix, holding his knot where his fingers had once curled. Phoenix fucked him hard, groaning, pawing at him, fighting through his own ascension.

“You first,” he pleaded breathlessly, nuzzling against Lorenz’ neck, their masks both askew, sweat dripping from beneath.

“Please,” Lorenz managed, and Phoenix met his demands.

As before, Lorenz came suddenly, uncontrollably, his cries wanton and lusty. Phoenix moaned with him, free to do so as his hand continued its assault. He was relentless and with each deep thrust, Lorenz came even harder. It was hot, wet, absolutely everywhere, and the scent filled the air completely.

Lorenz was at the mercy of his orgasm, his moans turning to hiccuping sobs of pleasure as Phoenix fucked him deep. It only took a few more thrusts before his swollen cock pulsed and twitched, pumping Lorenz absolutely full of cum. It was far too much, so much more than he had imagined, and he could feel his body stretching once more, accepting it greedily as it came.

It was flawlessly perfect, exactly as he’d always needed, always dreamed. He was made for this, to claim an Alpha in this way, to milk them dry and keep them warm and deep inside. He was crying, shivering, make-up rolling down his pale cheeks from where he’d rimmed his eyes in kohl. Phoenix was saying something but he couldn’t parse the words, clinging to his shoulders as if he would otherwise vanish into the night. Phoenix was going nowhere, touching his cheeks, brushing the black tears away, leaning to kiss the trails to soothe him instead.

This was everything.

Their bodies were locked together, each pulsing inside, hips moving in a subconscious wave, riding out the sensations that continued to send licks of pleasure through them. Lorenz could feel his head clearing, the ecstasy falling away into a subdued bliss, something far less desperate, something more satisfying and satisfied. They moved because their bodies willed it, because it felt right, though it was no longer necessary.

“Are you okay?”

The question was soft, clearing the haze from around him. It took Lorenz a moment to realize Phoenix had asked it, that it was a real question, that he wasn’t imagining it himself.

“Wonderful,” he answered, his throat once again painfully dry. He swallowed, licked his lips, but to no avail, and he buried his face against Phoenix instead, repeating faintly, “...wonderful.”

He’d been instructed what to do during their tie during his etiquette training. What good smalltalk would be, what topics to avoid, how to charm his mate and endear them to him while he was vulnerable. It was all so pointless, as if he could manage to speak more than a word at a time, as if he had any use for such idle chatter. He wanted merely to exist, to breathe calmer with time, to feel his lover’s chest rise and fall, to enjoy their togetherness. Perhaps if this was a less fortunate union, arranged rather than found naturally at a ball, such talk would be more useful. Maybe it was strategic, if his partner was disgusting or wretched, if it was meant to settle his stomach if the coupling made him queasy. This was none of those things, quite the opposite in every way. He did not feel sick at all, he felt so very full and so very warm.

Lorenz snaked an arm between them, his fingertips ghosting across the exposed skin beneath his waistcoat, corset and shirt. There was a swell there, a bit lower than a full meal would provide but more distended than he would allow a meal to cause. He had been quite empty, skipping meals due to nervous and compulsive image maintenance, but now was quite full. He felt he should be repulsed like so many times he judged himself for overeating, but instead this felt… good. Proper. As intended. He rested his palm across the swell, pressing ever so slightly, sighing softly at the pleasant chill it caused.

Phoenix’s fingers drifted up from Lorenz’ cock to lace with his fingers where they rested, and Lorenz shivered again, humming in faint contentment. This was somehow even better. Even more right. Then Phoenix rolled his hips slightly and there was a small bump beneath their hands, a sound something like a chuckling moan hummed against Lorenz’ neck. The thrust felt good but…

“...was… that your…”

“Yep,” Phoenix confirmed simply, doing it again, just a little harder.

It was horribly arousing, almost as much as anything else, and Lorenz wondered if he would’ve felt each thrust through his skin before being so filled. He wanted to find out, if he could. If they did this again. It would be a terrible, sinful indulgence to do so, but… surely it would also be permissible, if only to ensure the Goddess’ favour on the union.

The union.

Lorenz shifted, pulling his hand away to fuss with his shirt cuff. After a moment, the thin bracelet of woven floss was freed from it and Lorenz’ wrist. The floss was plaited in purple and gold, a single peacock feather charm dangling from it, matching his house colours and his persona here at the ball. He found Phoenix’ hand where he’d left it and slipped the bracelet around his wrist, tugging gently to tighten it.

No sooner was it affixed than Phoenix lifted it to his face for a closer inspection, his eyes combing over it a few times before he smiled.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, sinking back down atop Lorenz more heavily than before.

Lorenz refused to dwell on the lack of reciprocation. He trusted Phoenix to respond in kind, to exchange their tokens properly, when he was rested. There was no way they could do this, share this, lay like this, and not have a proper exchange. It was impossible.

It felt too good, pinned beneath Phoenix, still joined, still full. Whether from satisfaction or dry mouth, they had nothing to say, and over time, merely became more tangled, cuddled together in the afterglow.

Lorenz didn’t intend to fall asleep, yet he jolted awake when the door opened, the attendant peering inside, silhouetted by the dawn as it crept through the hall windows.

“Excuse me, carriage for Mister Peacock is in queue.”

His tongue felt thick and useless. His mask had come loose in his sleep, laying bent and in need of feathering on the mattress between Phoenix and himself.

Phoenix?!

If he hadn’t been fully awake before, he was now, the sight of the Alpha still in the bed beside him far worse than falling asleep unintentionally. He scrambled away, his horror only growing as he realized the sheets were stiff and stuck to his bare skin, dragged along with him as he moved to stand. He snatched the mask, momentarily frozen as he tried to decide which to cover, settling on his face despite his immodesty.

“I’m Peacock,” Lorenz asserted, the attendant patiently waiting for his response. “Have the carriage re-queue, I need to see to the ledger first.”

“Will you be taking breakfast?” She hesitated, peering past him. “Shall I bring two?”

Lorenz was red-faced, ashamed, and stammered, “No, that will not be necessary, thank you.”

She curtsied and departed with an indistinct mumble of acknowledgement, retreating back into the hall.

Lorenz released his held breath and rigid stance, always loathe to be caught unprepared. He searched immediately for his trousers, trying to replay the night enough to figure out where they’d gone. He suppose he could just ask…

Phoenix.

Slowly, Lorenz turned to where the Alpha slept, undisturbed by the intrusion, snoring ever so slightly. He seemed content, a blanket dragged half over him, the other half surely having been on Lorenz until he staggered away. He’d… tucked them in when they’d uncoupled. Lorenz didn’t even remember that, far too exhausted to wake when he slipped out.

Phoenix wasn’t supposed to be here, though. It would be a kind gesture to tuck him in, but Alphas were not supposed to stay and nest at breeding balls. This certainly wasn’t a full nest, but it was still so improper. Did he truly care that little for etiquette? Or was he truly that ignorant to his role here? This would surely be a point of gossip. Peacock finally beds an Alpha and dives into hedonistic intimacy prior to exchanging tokens.

The token.

Lorenz quickly inspected his wrists but they were both bare beneath his shirt cuffs. His heart sank, his throat dryer than ever.

No need to panic. It was possible that he was too exhausted to remember the token. Maybe that’s how he was intending to excuse still being here in the morning. That was serious on its own, far more serious than the missing token, so it was likely just an oversight. Or maybe it was in the sheets?

Lorenz picked carefully through the sheets where he had been sleeping, wrinkling his nose at the stains and stiffness their uncoupling had caused. He felt disgusting now, no lingering memory of the affectionate haze enough to cancel out the physical discomfort. Perhaps in the carriage he could think fondly of the previous night, but now he was panicked, desperate for a proper end.

Still, no token to be found.

It must still be on Phoenix’ wrist.

Gingerly, Lorenz leaned to pull down the blanket and lifted each of Phoenix’ sleeves in turn. Only his token was visible, the tiny feather catching the lamplight in its green enamel.

No token.

There must be a mistake. A terrible mistake. An absolutely unforgivable mistake. His chest was tight, painfully tight, and his eyes searched the bed again. Nothing on his mask, nothing in the toppled basket, nothing in the sheets, nothing tucked into a pocket on his person, nothing anywhere. Hot tears rose in Lorenz’ eyes and he could no longer bear to look at Phoenix, no matter how peaceful he was, no matter how he longed to tuck back into his arms.

He would explain, it would all be worked out.

Lorenz gulped down water from the pitcher, wincing as it hit his empty stomach. He was queasy from hunger, anxiety and… heartbreak? Something he’d rather not put a name on. Taking up the discarded towel, he wet it in the remaining water, scrubbing at his thighs in a vain attempt to clean up before replacing his trousers. Even as he cleaned himself, he could feel more of Phoenix leaking out of him, and he knew this venture to be entirely futile.

With his trousers back on, Lorenz replaced his mask, trying so hard to keep from crying as he did. He knew he must be a mess, but he wanted to keep some dignity from this situation if at all possible. He spared one last glance at Phoenix and his heart ached terribly, an ache he’d never felt before and could barely resist.

The hall was bustling with activity, muted though it was. It stunk of Omegas, though the smell was quite different than the night before. There were all claimed, all bred and satisfied, slowly making their way back toward the ballroom or huddled in small, disheveled groups to show off their tokens.

He refused to acknowledge them, to even look at them, eyes forward as he made his way to the entrance hall.

The waiting parlour was where the ledger was kept, a small grouping of Omegas idling there, waiting for their carriage in the queue. Lorenz wove through them, making beeline for the ledgerkeeper, swallowing back his fear.

“Phoenix,” he announced.

The ledgerkeeper looked up, then back down, turning the pages and drawing a finger across the page. He seemed to find the entry without issue, then looked up expectantly.

“Well?” he said after a long moment. “Token?”

Lorenz felt himself flush.

“Phoenix did not have a token to bestow upon me. I have given him my token, but he was ill-equipped.”

The ledgerkeeper was unamused, sitting back slightly and sighing.

“Then perhaps Mister Phoenix had already bestowed it upon another that I have yet to see.”

Lorenz’ heart sank, the angry, humiliated tears once again threatening to drag his eyeliner down his face.

“That is not the case, he is merely a fool who did not bring a token and thus cannot bestow it upon me. I demand his information, my carriage is waiting.”

The ledgerkeeper shook his head, closing the ledger. The look he gave Lorenz was one of pity, but not empathy.

“In the future, I would ensure that your mate still has a token before allowing yourself to be bred. You will save yourself this embarrassment.”

“And what of him?” Lorenz demanded. “Is there no consequence for him?”

“Of course not,” the ledgerkeeper said exasperatedly. “If you wished to be consensually bred without exchanging tokens, that is at your discretion. Some find that makes for better breeding by the Alphas they seek to mate with, as it heightens their need to claim and replace the Alpha that came first.”

“That is not the case!” Lorenz said, nearly stamping his foot in his anger.

The ledgerkeeper was unmoved, his eyes flickering to the door before returning to Lorenz.

“Your carriage, Mister Peacock,” he reminded.

Lorenz followed his gaze to the door, his heart twinging again.

“I know it is not an equivalent exchange, but if he comes with my token, please, give him my entry. I wish you to do this, note it down. He will find me, I am sure of it.”

“...is Mister Phoenix still on the premises?” the ledgerkeeper asked incredulously.

Lorenz went pink again, his lips drawn thin.

“He is. He is still sleeping in the room that we shared.”

The ledgerkeeper sighed, waving Lorenz away as he reopened the book and took up his quill.

“I will see you next heat, Mister Peacock.”

Dejected and disgraced, Lorenz relented, retreating to the foyer and slipping out the grand entrance. The garden was lovely in the soft lilac of morning, but there was bile in his throat. His carriage was waiting as promised, and his footman flashed him a smile as if to congratulate him. Lorenz said nothing, refusing to meet his gaze, climbing inside the carriage and settling in for the ride back to his estate.

The thin voice of his anxiety crept up as the carriage lurched to a start, whispering that he’d been made a fool of and used, just as he was always warned against.

“No,” he said softly, but resolutely.

The carriage was already full of pheromones, no longer the acrid scent of his desperation but the full and rich scent of their coupling. It was proof of what had happened, and that it was good, and that his Phoenix would come for him, some day. Phoenix was intentionally contrary and too fond of mean japes, but there was tenderness in him that swore no true malice was meant. They had slept together so peacefully, had kissed and cuddled their way to dawn, and he refused to allow that to be merely the product of post-coital affection.

They would meet again, he knew, and he would not let him escape again.


End file.
